


Book of Tullk: First Rite of Challenge

by AvatarofJord



Series: Spare Parts Universe [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom!Yondu, Fist Fights, M/M, Ravager Culture, Ravager Headcanon, Rimming, Slash, Top!Kraglin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 05:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvatarofJord/pseuds/AvatarofJord
Summary: Or "How the Scrawny Xandarian Lost His Arm....the second time"A Spare Parts Prequel





	Book of Tullk: First Rite of Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> So I know the few of you who are reading "Spare Parts" are eagerly awaiting the finale. But...I kinda wanted to write another stand alone piece that goes with the Headcanon of one armed Kraglin and shows some more Ravager culture that is kinda hinted at in the Main work. idk, I'm a sadist and this universe is really going to suck me into a void. You don't have to really read "Spare Parts" to enjoy this one but it is a companion piece and would maybe probably be good. And there may be more excerpts from the mentioned "Ravager Annals" that go along with the Main work like...later. I guess I just wanted everyone to know just because the Main work will be ending soon, doesn't mean there aren't other stories...

Ravagers are not known for being a quiet lot. They’re rowdy, boisterous, hedonistic revelers who take pride in their abilities to upset the sensibilities of other, quieter, well-meaning people. You can always tell when they’ve made port whether their colors are on display or not. They cheer, they sing, they dance. They have battle cries that make their enemies tremble. Even their ships are loud. So when Captain Yondu Udonta makes the announcement of their next haul and is met with silence in the galley, he knows there is going to be a Problem. Capital P.

“You can’t be serious, Captain.” It comes from his right hand. Not just his right hand side but his metaphorical Right Hand, First mate. Horuz. To be expected really, he’s been a little mouthy as of late. “You can’t really be suggesting we follow a plan that the _cargo_ came up with?” Horuz’s eyes cut to Peter, eleven years old and spotty, sitting at the table Yondu is stood on, and he sneers at the boy.

“I’m bein’ fully serious. An’ you might do well to watch your tone.” Yondu says, hands on his hips. The gold chains around his neck jangle as he turns to face Horuz head on, looking down on him from where he’s standing. 

“That little whelp ain’t-”

“He IS a Ravager.” Yondu growls and leans down to make sure Horuz can see right into his red eyes, can see how deadly serious he is. He pitches his voice so all the others in the room can hear what he says next, “An’ we all got an equal opportunity to put forth ideas don’t we?” there’s several murmurs of approval that spread through the crowd, even as Horuz shakes his head.

“Well I got an idea Udonta.” he says and in a second he’s up on the table nose to nose with his captain. “I say maybe it’s time for a new captain.” 

He knew it was coming that mutiny had been brewing since he decided to keep Peter, Since Stakar and the Tribunal had exiled him. He glances around the room, but there aren’t too many faces that look to be in support of Horuz. The few he worries about, Taserface, Half-nut, Brahl, look pretty blank, but they don’t look approving. Flarkin’ vultures waiting to see how it’ll all play out. 

“Now take it easy, man, tha’s mutiny you’re talkin’.” Leave it to Tullk to always be the de-escalator, if he weren’t the Archivist, Yondu would have made him first mate ages ago. He’s always a voice of reason, and a quick drawn gun when it comes to it. Yondu would even hesitantly, maybe, call him a firend. But you can’t hold two titles on a ship, that’s part of the code. One man, one rank. 

“You know I think Horuz might be on ta somethin’.” It comes from the LAST mouth Yondu expects it from. From the gasp that works its way through the crowd, it’s the last mouth anyone expects to speak in Horuz defense. Kraglin Obfonteri is a scrawny, sliver of a man, with a ratty ponytail and long mutton chops. He’s part of the bridge crew, but he’s just a technician, not anyone really important. Well not anyone important to the rest of the Ravagers anyway. He hates to admit it but he’s a little important to Yondu, seeing as they been getting each other off almost exclusively for more than a little while now. 

Horuz snorts and leers at Kraglin from under his beard and motions for him to join them on the table. Kraglin climbs up with ease, limber as a cat, even if his gawky limbs make him look like some kind of scarecrow. “Well that’s a surprise, Captain’s little tart comin’ to my defense.”

“Oh I didn’t say I was defendin’ ya. I said you might be onta somethin’. I think a change in leadership might be exactly what we need. And I’m thinkin’ it should start with our First Mate.” Kraglin growls, head hunched low and feral, sharp shark teeth bared. As much as the rest of the crew ribs Kraglin for taking up with the captain; and that’s as much for the assumption that he’s reaching for power beyond his station as it is about the perceived sentimentality that comes along with sleeping with the same person more than a few times, most of them acknowledge his practicality. He’s another one like Tullk, he doesn’t make idle threats, and he isn’t hot headed on most issues. Horuz, however, isn’t one of them and he laughs in the technician’s face.

“Is that right? Did I hear you right Krager-Face? Did I just hear you, a nobody oiler, piece of Xandarian trash, challenge me?” Horuz was Nova Corps once, a life time ago, where Kraglin himself has always been a scrappy scaver. In Yondu’s opinion it’s left the former with an inflated ego, one he maybe should have stomped on years ago. There’s been a lot of hindsight since Peter came aboard. 

“I think that’s exactly what you heard, Horuz.” Yondu rasps in his first mate’s ear. He steps back and turns to look at Kraglin whose left hand is clenched on the handle of the knife over his shoulder. Even if Horuz deserves to be gutted, Yondu knows they don’t have enough numbers for the brawl that shanking him here in the mess hall could start. Less blood is better. This time. Luckily, Kraglin’s challenge offers another way to keep blood shed to a minimum. Even if Yondu thinks it’s a damn stupid option. “Obfonteri.”

“Yes, Cap’n.”

“You lookin’ to make this an official challenge to the Roster?” He asks with his best Official Captain voice, face serious. Since taking command of the Eclector there’s never been an official challenge to the roster, and Yondu likes to think it’s because he picks his officers well. If this is to be the first, he wants to make sure it’s done right, make sure the crew know that even though they’re exiled, some parts of the code are worth keeping. 

Kraglin glances at him before standing up straight and taking his hand off the knife hilt. He thumps his chest twice in salute and nods. Yondu nods back and looks at Tullk, who’s already yanked out a piece of paper and is beginning to scribble like a good Archivist. Just another record for the Annals.

“Do we have someone who seconds Obfonteri’s right to Challenge?” Yondu glances around the room, but again the Ravagers in attendance are uncharacteristically quiet. 

“I second him.” Peter peeps from behind him, and Yondu feels himself swell with a sense of pride he’ll never admit he has. 

“That boy ain’t a crew! He’s cargo!” Horuz protests, and Yondu turns to growl in his face, before Tullk interrupts.

“He got his own M-Ship and he’s on the Roster. He’s a Ravager, and by rights can second the challenge!” Horuz scowls at the Archivist before stepping back. 

“Then I say it’s about time to name your terms boys.” Yondu says, jumping down off the table to give Kraglin and Horuz room to square up against each other. He takes a seat next to Tullk and elbows him in the ribs “I got 100 on Kraglin to win it.” He whispers and Tullk smiles at him and makes a mark in the paper’s margin.

“Got ya down.”

Horuz and Kraglin face each other backs straight. By rights Horuz gets to name his terms first and so, like a good Ravager, Kraglin waits, teeth grinding in his jaw. He knows Horuz is trying to test his patience, get him to speak first, out of line, and invalidate the Challenge. 

“Alright then. If I win, _Captain_ , you gotta drop that patchy, Terran sproglet off where we was supposed to deliver him, and then step down.”

“That’s two terms Horuz.” Yondu says unamused, arms crossed over his chest.

“Just the boy then.”

“Obfonteri, name your terms.” Tullk says after scribbling down the first set.

“Ok Horuz, I win….” Kraglin presses his face nose to nose with the bulky first mate and growls his terms into his beard. “You never speak against the Captain again.” 

The pair shake on the terms and Yondu dismisses the Ravagers back to their duties, although he does make sure to remind them to place their bets with Tullk before the next night cycle. When the horn blows, bets stop. He packs Peter off to spit shine the Milano, something to keep the kid busy, before doing the rounds. Captain has to make sure no one gets any more ideas. He keeps up a steady whistle while he goes about the ship, yaka arrow in full view, a menacing reminder that the only reason Horuz is still alive is because Yondu wants him to be. Because Yondu believes in the code, even if he’s willing to break it occasionally.

When he’s checked on everything he needs to, looked over the navigation crew and the oilers in the lower decks and heard all the shit they need to restock on from the quartermaster, his shift is about done. The night crew is starting to wake up and the hallways of the Eclector are crowded in the changeover while he makes his way to his own Captain’s quarters. He punches in the code on his lock and peels back his eye for a retinal scan. Although when he sees who’s occupying the sink in his quarters as soon as he enters he begins to wonder…

“Why do I even have security measures if your scrawny ass is just gonna bypass them every chance you get?!” 

Kraglin is stood at the sink, squinting into the mirror while he drags a knife blade gently across his froth covered face. His jumpsuit is unzipped and the top is tied around his waist. He wipes the knife off on a dingy towel before going back for a few more swipes of the blade. “Don’t know. Guess to keep other people out. You hit that little yellow button there I installed yesterday, and ain’t nobody gonna get in.”

“Careful Obfonteri, gettin’ awful close to insubordination,” Yondu says even as he hits the button in question and hears the mechanisms in his door make noises they don’t usually. Kraglin grins at him with a satisfied soap covered face before going back to his shaving.

“Come off it, you like when I sneak in here to see you, old man.” He sets the knife down and wipes the rest of the foam off his chin. His beard and mutton chops are gone, shaved all the way down to his skin and Yondu is taken aback by how young he looks. It’s easy to forget the age difference between them, the same distance in years as Kraglin is to Peter, when his face is covered under all that fuzz. No one under thirty should be able to grow a beard that thick.

“You know, just ‘cause you got a cute baby face, don’t mean it’ll stop Horuz from puttin’ your teeth down your throat tomorrow.” Yondu shucks the long red over coat before draping it over the back of the chair at his desk. He sits sprawled, a king in his throne as he watches Kraglin finish up. 

“Didn’t wanna give him too much to hold onto tomorrow.” Kraglin’s face is all business and Yondu snorts at him. He looks like a pouty child with his weak chin and his pink cheeks.

“Cause the ponytail ain’t gonna make a great hand hold.” Yondu reminds him with a lascivious waggle of his eyebrows. It seems to dawn on Kraglin then that he’s forgotten the ratty mess at the back of his head, not a surprise based on how the knot looks. He reaches his cybernetic left arm back and grabs the base before cutting it off in a quick swipe of his knife. Yondu gapes at him. “Woah woah woah! What’re you doin?!”

“You had a good point, Sir.” Kraglin says and tosses the fuzzy knot onto Yondu’s lap, who picks it up a forlorn expression on his face. There are many things Yondu likes about Kraglin’s body, from the way he smells to his flat narrow belly, to the way the tendons in his scrawny neck stand out when they’re fucking. But the knarly hunk of hair had been a particular favorite. “Favor for my lady?” Kraglin teases and Yondu glares at him before kicking him in the shin. 

“Dipshit.” Yondu grumbles and tucks the tail of hair into his desk. If Kraglin wants to say something about Yondu adding his pony to his horde of “special trinkety shit” he refrains. He lathers up the side and back of his head with the soap and flicks the blade again. “You gonna shave everything off?” 

“Thinkin’ of keepin’ the top, I got a weird shaped head, sorta flat up there.” He runs the blade back again before Yondu’s hand stalls him and he takes the knife. 

“You’re gonna fuck up the back.” He says and sets to helping. He scrapes a few bits in silence before he gets serious. “You know you can’t lose tomorrow.” Kraglin nods and it’s enough of a jerk that Yondu slips the blade and catches him on the side of the head. It’s not a big cut but Kraglin’s big blue eyes wince a bit.

“Yea I know. Just couldn’t listen to that a-hole anymore. He runs his mouth when you ain’t lookin’ you know.” He say, nose wrinkled. “You need someone you can trust at your back.”

“And can I trust you Obfonteri?” Yondu wipes the soap off the right side of Kraglin’s head to reveal clean shaven skin. He presses the knife against Kraglin’s throat and watches him in the mirror. Rather than looking alarmed Kraglin smiles and wraps a mechanical hand around Yondu’s wrist. Kraglin doesn’t often show off the cybernetic arm, even when it’s only the two of them. Yondu figures its one part embarrassment because let’s face it, it’s an ugly bit of scrap, clunky and cobbled together like everything else on the ship. Man’s lucky it has five fingers. The other part he figures is because Kraglin keeps his secrets, his loves and especially his weaknesses close. Hidden under false faces and a million different rumors.

“What do you think, Sir?” He says and flexes the fingers of his hand. It doesn’t have any sensors in it, one of its many failings which had resulted in weeks of Kraglin accidentally crushing delicate components, but on Yondu’s wrist it’s a barely there pressure. Yondu tangles his fingers in what’s left of the floppy hair on top of Kraglin’s head and jerks it to the side.

“I think we better finish cleanin’ you up. Got to make sure you get your beauty rest.”

“What?! No pre-fight nookie?!” Kraglin protests as Yondu makes quick work of the rest of his hair. He’s not gentle but when he wipes the soap off the rest of Kraglin’s head the line is crisp and even.

“See that’s how I know you weren’t never a warrior, Obfonteri. You don’t fuck before a fight if ya can help it.” Yondu says and spins him to face him. He grabs Kraglin by the chin, squishing his cheeks, turning his head back and forth to check any places where the hair might be too long or uneven. “Gonna need that energy tomorrow. Horuz punches like a Kree frigate. Gonna need to get you new chompers after I figure.”

“I can take a hit, Sir.” Kraglin attempts to say through his smooshed lips. 

“Guess we’ll find out.” Yondu seems to stare through him for a moment, taking in the way Kraglin’s face looks just now. Clean, unbruised with a nose still where it’s supposed to be. There’s still scars, of course, one big one along his brow and upper cheek, and one across his chin, but at least the structure is intact. “Got somethin’ for ya.” He says and walks back toward his bed. He reaches inside the bedside table and pulls out a circular tin. He hasn’t looked at the contents in years, one of the few possessions he’s held onto from his days as a battle slave. The Kree didn’t allow him much, but this had been as much a part of his uniform as his obedience collar. 

“Sir?” Kraglin asks when Yondu doesn’t move right away.

“Kree mine this substance called ochre, comes in four colors, red, blue, black, and white. Ain’t got much use, ‘sides lookin’ good. Used to smear it on the face. Warpaint.” He pops the lid on the tin and rubs a thumb into the gritty paint. It’s so red it practically glows and Yondu drags his thumb in a straight line from Kraglin’s widow’s peak straight down to his chin. At the top he puts two smaller lines diagonal from where the longest one stops. Yondu smirks at the bright red arrow bisecting Kraglin’s face. “You get to wear your Captain’s favor tomorrow, boy.” 

Kraglin’s smile gets sappy and lopsided and he leans in for a kiss before Yondu shunts a hand into his diaphragm. It knocks the air out of him and his knees hit the floor when he doubles over.

“Don’t smear it yet, you moron! It ain’t dry. Now why don’t you get your ass outta here and back to your bunk. Get some decent shut eye. Cap’n’s orders.” Yondu says eyes narrowed down at his gasping bridge officer. 

“Yes, Cap’n.” Kraglin warbles as he continues to suck air. Yondu rolls his eyes at him before helping him back on his feet. He redresses in his jumpsuit, mechanical arm safely hidden out of sight before he heads for the door. It opens but before he can walk out Kraglin turns back to look at his captain, sat on his bed across the room. “Sir, you do have a contingency plan, you know, in case I lose this fight tomorrow?”

Yondu scowls. “Course I do. Now get out.”

The next morning comes much quicker than Yondu had hoped for. He gets up, swishes a bit of sterilizing water in his mouth before spitting it out and dressing for the day. He makes sure he puts on all his campaign ribbons, long strips of fabric attached over the left breast of his long coat under the flame badge. He spits on the bronze badge itself before shining it up and giving himself a once over. He might be an exile but some traditions are worth doing right. 

He find’s Peter passed out in the Milano’s cockpit, music box stopped but the earphones still on his head. He flicks him in the nose to wake him up. 

“Ow! What the hell Yondu?!”

“That’s what the hell Yondu, _Sir_. We gotta have a quick discussion about today.”

“Fine, but you didn’t have to flick me.” He says, petulant, and when Yondu points an irritated finger at him he tacks on a, “ _Sir._ ”

“Look kid, you need to stay close to me. And I mean real close. Cause if Kraglin loses, I ain’t certain that Horuz ain’t gonna stuff you out the first airlock he sees.” Yondu says and Peter gulps. 

“You think that could really happen?”

“It’s anyone’s guess. I know how Horuz fights, I know how it feels to catch one of those fists in the face. Kraglin on the other hand. No idea there.” Yondu shrugs like it’s not a big deal. Like he isn’t standing there telling Peter it might conceivably the last day of his life. Like he isn’t standing there telling him the only thing standing between him and certain death is a scrawny Xandarian Peter is pretty sure hates him as much as Horuz does.

“You don’t think Kraglin will….you know.” 

Yondu arches an eyebrow in question. 

“You don’t think Kraglin will take a dive do you?” Peter asks, curled up in the pilot's seat, big watery, scared eyes looking up at his captain.

Yondu’s face splits into a grin right before he throws back his head and laughs like Peter just told the funniest joke in the quadrant. “Are you kidding?! Kraglin can’t wait to pummel Horuz. And let me say that has absolutely nothing to do with you, boyo. There’s a lot riding on this fight for ol’ Krag for Brains. Now c’mon, let’s go get you dressed, gotta look your best for a challenge fight.”

The fight isn’t until that evening, second cycle of the day, allowing for optimum attendance since the mid shift is the smallest. One of the lower cargo bays has been converted into an arena, all shipment containers moved to form an octagon as well as stands for all the crew to watch. Yondu’s pleased when he sees how many of the crew have decided to turn out, and even more pleased when Tullk tells him the bet numbers. Seems few amongst the crew think Kraglin is the winning Orloni. All the more for him he figures. Peter is sat next to him on his right side, Tullk on the left and when Horuz walks in, shirt off and thick body on display half the crowd cheers for him. He climbs the containers to the top of the octagon and levels a finger at Yondu. 

“After this one Udonta, I’m comin’ for you!” 

Yondu scowls and whistles the yaka arrow in an arch around the arena. It circles several times before returning to Yondu’s hand. “Now, now Horuz, that ain’t no way to talk to your Captain.”

“Heh, let’s see how long that lasts after I pummel that boy of yours.” Kraglin chooses that moment to enter the arena, hands wrapped in black electrical tape and red arrow blazing on his forehead. A murmur goes through the crowd as he pulls himself up the containers on the opposite end of Horuz. It isn’t the boisterous approval Horuz had had, but at least it isn’t outright booing. 

“This _boy_ ain’t gonna go down so easy.” Kraglin’s forgone his usual jumpsuit, and like Horuz has opted for no shirt. Just another layer left behind so it can’t be grabbed later. He rolls a mechanical shoulder and cracks his neck. “You ready to do this? Can still say you’re sorry and back out.”

“Like I’m afraid of you, ya little one armed rodent.” 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Kraglin growls, and hunches his shoulders.

Peter gulps. Looking at the pair on the octagon, Horuz seems a lot larger than Kraglin, bulky with muscles like corded cables in his arms, but Kraglin has never looked meaner than he does at exactly this moment. He doesn’t even look human, more like a werewolf right before it starts to grow fur. Tullk stands and motions for two of the other bridge officers to enter the ring, each one carrying a pair of iron knuckles. Both fighter’s slip them on, although Kraglin can only put on one of them, his metal hand being wrong in dimensions for the other. 

“Ready when you are Captain.” Tullk says, large book propped open, pen in hand. 

“Alrighty then, let’s get this show on the road. Fighter’s to your flarkin’ corners!” Yondu shouts and when both parties are at their respective ends, Tullk blows on a great large Asgardian horn to start the fight. 

They start out faster than Peter expects, Horuz especially. Kraglin ducks low to avoid the first swing, a right hook that he stops with the mechanical monstrosity on his left side. Usually that would be a great idea, except it puts his face directly in front of Horuz left fist which catches him in the mouth and tosses him halfway across the ring. His legs go over his head with the momentum and he has to dig his left hand into the mat to stop himself from rolling all the way off. His mouth fills with blood and he spits a molar. Not a good start.

“C’mon Kraglin, I know you got more fight in you than that.” Horuz taunts him from the other side of the ring, dropping back into a crouch and lifting his fists. He seems inclined to wait for Kraglin to get back on his feet, which takes a second longer than Kraglin himself had hoped. It isn’t the first time he’s wished the metal arm was on his right side, he’s a much better right handed fighter. 

Horuz comes at him again but this time Kraglin expects the speed and he’s down and under Horuz arms before the next swing can make contact. He comes up quick and his left arm collides with his adversary’s eye socket. Horuz turns back and catches him in the chest with the iron knuckles and they both lock arms. Which is a mistake on Horuz part. Kraglin’s maw opens wide and his pointed teeth lodge themselves in Horuz’s cheek. The shriek that follows sounds suspiciously like a little girl and Kraglin grins around his mouth full of flesh. The smile slides away when Horuz gets his right arm free and delivers three punishing blows to his solar plexus. Kraglin’s teeth come loose on the fourth blow and he yelps when Horuz grabs his metal arm. He straightens it with force and shoves the Xandarian down onto his face with a hard kick to the back of his knees.

“Fucker!” Kraglin shouts teeth gnashing. His feet slip when he tries to get them under him and Horuz wrenches his arm around back and behind him. He kicks him in the ribs before he stands on Kraglin’s neck and pulls. 

“Let’s see how sturdy this here arm of yours is!” Horuz growls and he gives the arm in question a hard twist. The metal groans under pressure and for the first time since he got the damn thing Kraglin is grateful it’s too much of a hunk of junk to have pain receptors. He can feel where it’s grafted pulling taught and that hurts but it isn’t as bad as having it cut off slowly by a giant Badoon. He tries to get his legs under him again but he can’t quite manage to get there with the leverage Horuz has. 

In the stands Peter looks away from the fight. He’s seen enough blood since Yondu picked him up not to be bothered by that, but dismemberment is on a whole other level. Kraglin grunts and then gurgles when Horuz presses his foot down on the back of his neck and gives the arm another twist. 

“Don’t look away boy.” Tullk says from Yondu’s other side and he glances across the captain at him. “You want to be a Ravager you have to watch. Don’ forget, if Kraglin loses, your life span starts lookin’ real short.” 

The color drains out of Peter’s face and he glances at Yondu but the captain’s eyes are straight ahead and if he’s concerned at all it doesn't show. Peter doesn’t know if it’s faith in Kraglin or just a really good poker face. A howl pierces the air and Yondu clenches his fist. “Tullk, what’s the rule on dismemberment durin’ a Challenge fight?” He asks as Horuz gives Kraglin’s arm another twist. The sound of snapping cables carries from the octagon to Yondu’s ears and he chews a cheek to keep from making a face.

“Always been hazy where cybernetics is concerned.” Tullk answers with a sideways glance at his captain. Kraglin curses again and this time there are sparks.

“Looks like it’s on there pretty good, Obfonteri. Don’t worry though, I got just the thing.” Horuz says. He takes his foot off Kraglin’s neck and Puts it against the already over stressed shoulder joint. Bits of metal and wire have begun to splinter and tear and sparks are jumping all up and down the arm. The tiny little electrical jolts that are racing through Kraglin’s body from his arm are beginning to cross the line from annoying into actually painful. If he doesn't get Horuz off him soon he’s not certain he’ll have the strength to recover enough to win.

“That all you go shit for brains? Must say I’m a mite disappointed.” Kraglin bluffs over his sparking shoulder and Horuz snarls down at him.

“Just give it up, Obfonteri, You can’t win this one.”

“Get fucked, Horuz.” 

“Thought that was more your style, prig!” Horuz puts all his weight down on Kraglin’s loose shoulder joint and gives the whole arm one last twist. The internal components whir loudly in protest and Kraglin recognizes the sound of a machine near death. In another moment Horuz will have the thing off and he’ll have to be ready. When Kraglin begins to feel the taut pressure on his chest ease he knows he has to act. With one last push from his right arm he manages to roll himself to the left the same time the arm finally fails and rips off. The move upsets the balance Horuz has on him and he topples over, his face meeting one of Kraglin’s kicked feet on the way down.

Kraglin knows he doesn’t have much time, he won't get another opening like this one. He’s up on his feet in moment, and delivering a swift kick to Horuz’s gut before following it with a mean heel to the man’s nose, which breaks in a torrent of blood. They aren’t hard kicks, he can’t get enough balance, lopsided as he’s feeling but as long as he can keep Horuz on the ground, he might be able to win it. A fist comes up and catches him in the knee and the hit drops him low enough that Horuz can grab at his ears. Left with no way to get above Horuz without opening himself for another hit Kraglin does the only thing he can. He head-butts him. It’s enough to jar Horuz hands off his head and Kraglin swings his remaining fist and catches him in the side of the skull. He watches Horuz’s eyes roll and grins. Hobbling back up onto his feet he slips his hand into Horuz hair.

“Shouldn’t have opened your flarkin’ mouth about my captain!” Kraglin growls as he brings his knee to meet Horuz face, not once, not twice but three times. There’s a wet sounding crack the third time Kraglin’s knee makes contact. He tosses Horuz head back one more time but let’s go of his hair, and he slips back onto the mat, unconscious. It’s a breath or two before Kraglin looks away from where he’s laid Horuz out and up to his captain. He has a split lip and a black eye forming, blood dripping down his front and his whole body feels like a big bruise. He’s also missing an arm. _Again._ But none of that matters when Yondu stands out of his chair and claps, along with all the rest of the crew. Tullk sounds the horn one more time and the challenge is over, and he’s victorious. 

“Now that was a hell of a fight, wouldn’t you say boys?!” The Ravagers in the stands whoop and holler and Yondu couldn’t keep the grin off his face if he tried. Kraglin looks like shit standing there blood covered and bruised, left arm missing, nothing left but some sparking disconnected wires. And Yondu’s never wanted him more than he does right this moment. “Kraglin Obfonteri, the Eclector recognizes you as First Mate. Do you accept?”

“Yes Sir!” Kraglin hollers, more blood dripping down his front from where his tooth came out earlier. He thumps his chest and tries to stand up straight. The adrenalin in his body is starting to wane if the way he’s shaking is any indication.

“Archivist. Make the change to the Roster.” Yondu orders and the whole room cheers, while Kraglin tries to keep his legs under him.

Later, after a visit to the Doc to make sure all his organs are still where they’re supposed to be and to cut the power in his arm so it stops electrocuting him, Kraglin sneaks himself into the Captain’s Quarters. One of the great perks of being the Captain is the private shower stall and one of the great perks of being the Captain’s...well, Whatever, is getting to use it whenever he wants. The water is warm and consistent and Kraglin groans as the heat hits his shoulders. The muscles along his upper back ache in a way only having your arm wrenched out of its socket can cause. He’s still dripping red, whether it’s ochre or blood, and watching it drip down the drain when he feels a pinch on his ass. He yelps and spins around, fist up and ready, only to meet Yondu’s very amused face. 

“You know just ‘cause you’re the new first mate, does NOT mean you can waste all the captain’s hot water.” Yondu chastises him while crowding him back against the grimy shower wall.

“Huh. Shoulda named that as my terms.” Kraglin jokes, his remaining hand coming up to pinch one of Yondu’s nipples in retaliation for the pinch to his ass. Yondu twists a hand in his water logged hair and drags his face down for a kiss that is as much teeth as it is lips. He’s been hard up since Kraglin kneed Horuz in his smart mouth the first time and has been imagining all the ways he can congratulate him on a fight well won. Of course he knows the best way to do it, knows what Kraglin would like the best. He sucks Kraglin’s bottom lip before rolling them against the wall. 

“Figure you earned that nookie you were lookin’ for last night. Unless your muscles are too sore.” Yondu teases. He’s not disappointed when he slides a hand down Kraglin’s bruised belly and finds him hard. Wrapping his hand around both their lengths Yondu gives them a hard even stroke and Kraglin’s hips push forward with a hiss. His belly ripples as he pushes his cock against Yondu’s. “I got a treat for you.” Yondu says, lower lip caught by a large gold fang. He runs his heel up the back of Kraglin’s calf and his eyebrows jump suggestively. Kraglin’s pupils dilate and Yondu knows he’s got the hint.

“Turn around.” Kraglin murmurs against his ear and Yondu grins and does so slowly. His back is broad and scared, muscles taut as he props his arms against the shower wall. Kraglin has to wrap his remaining fist around the base of his cock at the sight of all that blue. It’s a position they’re only just starting to explore, new and exciting for both of them. “Fuck, Sir.”

“That’s the idea.” Yondu purrs over his shoulder and arches his back when Kraglin runs his hand down his flank and nibbles at a shoulder with his razor wire teeth. 

“This is my back now.” Kraglin murmurs, and maybe it’s the heat from the shower or the exhaustion from the fight, but everything around them feels hazy and unreal. He knows he’s treading on sensitive ground, any talk of ownership is likely to get him an elbow in the mouth and a swift ejection from the Captain’s quarters. But he can’t help it, there’s so much he wants to say. He runs his beaky nose, all the more obvious now that there’s no beard to balance it out, along a long scar in a blue shoulder blade. Yondu growls and reaches a sharp nailed hand back to his first mates flank and pulls him in closer. 

“Issat right?” His eyes are narrowed and Kraglin picks his next words very carefully. 

“Yes, Sir. It’s mine. Any blade, any bullet, all of it, it’s gotta go through me first.” Kraglin rasps the words into Yondu’s ear and presses him flat against the wall. “I earned that.” 

“You wanna keep runnin your mouth or you wanna fuck?” Yondu grumbles but there’s a navy blush on his cheeks he can’t hide. 

Kraglin takes a shuddery breath and sucks two fingers into his mouth, thick tongue swirling around them. Water sucks as a lubricant, and it’s sure to wash anything else off, but if this is where the Captain cornered him than this is where he wanted to fuck. Standing rather than laying out. Probably smart since Kraglin only has the one arm to work with at the moment when he’s used to two. He slips his fingers down to play around Yondu’s pucker, gentle as his eagerness allows. 

“Can’t I wanna do both, Cap’n?” He mouths at Yondu’s neck as his middle finger sinks in.

“Would prefer you use that mouth for somethin’ other than-” Before he can finish the sentence Kraglin has teeth in his shoulder and he gasps as his eyes roll back. 

“Like that Cap’n?” Kraglin snarks after a moment and grins when Yondu starts working his hips in circles on his hand. “Why don’t you hold yourself open for me? I got somethin you’ll like.”

Yondu always responds better to questions over orders and Kraglin’s learned just how to ask for what he wants. He slips to his knees, tongue lapping along a thick blue ass cheek on the way down. He has to stop himself from biting into the tender flesh and leaving a mark, because that really would get him hit in the mouth. Yondu leans his chest against the shower wall, thankful that it’s warm from the hot water and not cold. He reaches back to pry his cheeks apart and tries not to think about what he looks like. How vulnerable he is. Because Kraglin’s right, he’s earned this. They both have. 

Kraglin’s prick gives a little jump at the sight in front of him, Yondu’s full heavy cock and tight sack, a navy pucker that winks at him in anticipation. He runs a thumb along the wrinkled aperture pressing just enough so the tip slips in.

“Get on with it Krags, I ain’t gettin any younger up here.” 

“Now, Boss you know you can’t rush a technician.” 

“Boy!” The aggravated tone makes Kraglin smile, but it also makes him shift gears. The hand playing around Yondu’s hole slips to his front to stroke his cock the same time Kraglin’s tongue licks into him and they both groan. With the water slipping down the curve of Yondu’s spine into Kraglin’s mouth any unpleasant flavors are washed away. He runs his tongue in flat wide circles around the hole before pointing the slick muscle and dipping inside. There’s a metallic taste, like sucking on a copper cable inside, but otherwise nothing. He closes his lips around the hole and sucks the same time he gives Yondu’s cock a hard squeeze and tries not to laugh when Yondu’s implant thunks against the wall with a sound like a gong. 

“Kraglin...Fuck.” Yondu’s hips start to rut back against his first mates mouth. His First Mate’s mouth, and fuck if the thought doesn’t make him hotter. His brain is still filled with how Kraglin had looked on the octagon, powerful, feral. An animal off his leash. A man ready to die for him if he had to. Even a better, a man ready to kill for him. In all his thirty plus years of life no one has ever...no has...

The hand on his cock starts to stroke in a regular rhythm, firm hard squeeze starting at the base and getting looser as his fist reaches the plump purple head. It’s an incredible tease, that’s only amplified when Kraglin takes his hand off him to slide that thumb in alongside his tongue. Yondu can feel the pressure on his hole as Kraglin uses his thumb to pull him further open. If he doesn’t get a cock soon he’s gonna kick the boy in his bruised little mouth and sit on him. “Obfonteri…”

“Hmm?” Kraglin hums against the rim he’s sucked into his mouth. He pulls his thumb out and slides two fingers back in, his tongue slithering between them and inside his Captain. He crooks his fingers towards the front and when he finds what he’s looking for he gives it a gentle rub. Yondu whines, high from the back of his throat and a few little clicks slip through his lips. If it were physically possible for Kraglin to get harder he would have. As it is he’s beginning to feel the same urgency his captain is. He slips his fingers out of Yondu’s sloppy soft hole, giving one last kitten lick to the rim before he stands up and presses his entire body along the azure back in front of him. “You want somethin’ Cap’n?” Kraglin whispers, red lips sucking a blue pierced earlobe between them, while his cock lays nestled between the cheeks of Yondu’s ass. 

“First mate shouldn’t have to ask, should just know.” Yondu says, voice stuttering over the common tongue. He turns his head enough to nab Kraglin’s stubble covered chin in his teeth and growls. It's a demand; an order without words.

“Sorry Cap’n, but I’m always gonna ask.” Kraglin says, slipping his over worked tongue into his Captain’s mouth the same time he drives his cock home. Inside, Yondu is made of molten lava and Kraglin mewls at how good he feels, his only hand slipping around Yondu’s belly to thumb at the line of his pouch. His lips slip along Yondu’s cheek as he turns him face first onto the wall and he finds the edge of the implant against his tongue, another metallic taste not so different from his Captain’s hole. The pace he sets is firm and measured, a steady deep drilling. 

“Fuck yea…” Yondu groans, forehead smashed against the shower wall, Kraglin’s lips on his implant and his hand on his pouch. He wants to move one of his hands from his ass to his cock but honestly he’s not sure how that would impede Kraglin’s rather expert fucking of him. It isn’t the first time he wonders how he could have managed to get so lucky. Kraglin’s cock finds the right angle to hit his prostate and Yondu finds he doesn’t care about the how of things, he only cares that they “Don’t fuckin stop! Don’t you dare fucking stop!”

“Won’t.” Kraglin murmurs, but he can already feel his end fast approaching, even as he grinds his teeth on his tongue to put it off. It’s all too much, the adrenaline from the fight, the aches in his body, the high of finally getting to kick Horuz’s crooked ass teeth in and then the cherry on top. This, just this, him and his Captain, more his than anyone else's now. When Yondu starts to babble in the native clicks and whistles of his species, something Kraglin has begun to realize is a good signal for how close he is to finishing he picks up his pace and lets his hand slip down to the turgid purple cock. It won’t take much. “Go ahead, Boss. C’mon, wantchu to.”

Yondu comes moments later with a heaving gasp, Kraglin’s wet hand and hard cock fucking him through it. His legs start shake with exhaustion and he starts to slide only find Kraglin’s arm hooked around his middle. Kraglin, whose pace isn’t slowing, or stuttering. “Krags…” 

“M’ so close Yondu.” He whimpers into a thick blue neck, tongue lapping at the skin. 

“C’mon then, C’mon.” Yondu clenches all his internal muscles and it’s exactly the push his first mate needs.

“Cap’n…”Kraglin groans as he comes, toes curling and back bowed. He pulls out quick after that, orgasm leaving him over sensitive, and gives all his weight to Yondu. They both slip to the floor of the shower exhausted, Yondu turning back around so he can mouth at Kraglin’s jaw and keep the limp git from drowning on the shower floor. He turns him so he can lean his back against Yondu’s front and wraps both his arms, one around Kraglin’s narrow torso and the other around Kraglin’s even more narrow neck.

“I gotcha.” He mumbles into the little bit of hair left on Kraglin’s head and Kraglin hums at him. One of Yondu’s hands comes up to rub at the bridge of his nose, washing the patchy bit of ochre that’s left off his face. He runs a few careful fingers over the dead exposed machinery of Kraglin’s missing left arm. He’s got a few names and thought’s one that. A first mate should have a first class arm, something sturdier, something he can be proud of. Maybe even something pretty. It’s another moment before Kraglin’s tongue unsticks itself from the roof of his mouth.

“Cap’n-”

Yondu rolls his eyes, because of course the moron wants to _talk_.“Shh. Now don’t ruin a good thing by openin’ your snaggle toothed gob.”

Kraglin huffs, and starts to wriggle. “I just gotta-”

Yondu tightens the arm that’s wrapped around Kraglin’s scrawny neck. “Kraglin, I’m serious. Shut up, before you ruin the post coitus cuddlin’.”

“But-”

“Damnit, Kraglin! What?!” Yondu growls.

Kraglin rolls his head back against Yondu’s chest, big blue eyes looking up at him beseechingly. “Can we get out? Water’s gotten awfully cold.”


End file.
